Explained -The Mad Village Poet 10

Original(O): You can call the frog cute
Just so he can help rid you of mosquitoes.
Explained(E): Just as you can call the cow pretty just so she gives you milk. This is about ass-kissing -pardon the use of the term “ass”. When we think about ass-kissing or foot-licking, we usually think of pleasing those “above” us. But, besides royal(and gorgeous) asses, what about that “low-life” or “social misfit” of a person whom we don’t really feel the slightest admiration for as a fellow HUMAN; whom we just keep around us for the things we stand to gain from them. Worse still, we keep them believing they matter to us. Such pitiful, scary emotional vampires some of us make! I can’t imagine what thoughts will run through the mind of that young man when he learns that his “girlfriend” is just keeping him “around her ankles” for some bizarre reason remotely far from attraction.
O: A long road ends in heartbreaks
When your heart grows sick from longing.
E: Some will claim distance breeds longing! Indeed, I’d like to know the definition of that distance -one year, across one continent? Not that there are no EXCEPTIONS. I’d like also to know the meaning of EXCEPTIONS. I know of a friend of mine -distance of about 6 time zones and 3 years. It appeared he wasn’t an exception.
O: Though one may prove brave and strong
By walking the length of it,
Is the journey any more fun?
In the end, anyway
You will earn the Purple Heart for boredom.
E: I would applaud such a friend, for instance; but, they are no more together today. And such a man he was! Such a man!
O: How fast time flies
When its wings are unclipped by the pen.
E: Sometimes, I would start writing around the stroke of midnight, and get lost till it’s around 2am. Writing has such great pull on one.
O: Life turns up great
When played by the book.
E: And where is such a book?
The only one that’s given my life any semblance of sanity is the Bible.
O: But spare me the throes of reading music.
E: A just-by-the-way comment. But, if there’s any reader here who can also read music, my respectful bow. How is it that reading something so liberating and wonderful be so seemingly boring?!
O: I’d rather be just another croaky-frog writer,
Who sings his words with a bang
Even though he plagiarized.
E: And I can’t count the number of them. Writers who photocopy others’ ideas and words. With no originality on their own part. And they blow their own trumpets loud with it.
Anyway, let’s acknowledge some creativity there. They remixed another’s song and made best-sellers with it.
O: Then what advantage does free-styling have,
When the monkey also has his stunts?
E: I would give more credit though, to some fledgling writer who shows some personality/originality.
What then makes anyone earn the title of a “writer” when just anybody can freestyle.
NB: I do not mean to sound derogatory or insulting by using the word “monkey”. From my past writings in this series, you will see more clearly how I have used the term to refer to human beings in a poetic way.
O: But, can we all be poet laureates?
E: The answer would be a banging-croaky “No”!
O: You don’t need wisdom to choose which to be.
You only need monkey soup.
E: By saying monkey soup now, keeping in mind past usages of the word “monkey”, I am referring to creativity/ingenuity.
O: And don’t even begin to think
You know the choice I made.
Humour me if you can
Not forgetting that you’d still the monkey soup,
So we can speak the same lingua.
So long, fellas!
We shall meet in the jungle.